


Pick-Me-Up

by crystallØnyx (dremma)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Blowjobs, Infidelity, M/M, POV First Person, improper use of government property
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 02:07:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15898734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dremma/pseuds/crystall%C3%98nyx
Summary: Seneschal Bran is such an irritable, miserable man. Arrick Hawke is certainly going to put a stop to that.





	Pick-Me-Up

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to hat tip @Hollyand for the "Let's Get This Over With" series of her friend's Hawke and Bran, for both providing delightful reads and reminding me that oh yes, I wrote some Hawke/Bran stuff a loooooooooong time ago, maybe I should put it up? lord knows Bran could always use some more love. 
> 
> Please do note though, this is over five years old and I haven't edited it in all that time so it might contain some cringy bits. Caveat lector~

 

Grouchy, grouchy, _grouchy_. Seneschal Bran was always looking run down and irritated, vexed by this, that or the other. Poor man. I'd seen his wife. Ugly old hag, and mean as a wet cat. I'm sure he was terribly sexually frustrated.

It was a hot, Kirkwall summer day, which meant the streets were steaming from freak rain storms and everyone was in everyone's face. However, the keep seemed to be quiet enough and I found Bran furiously scribbling at his desk, fingers keeping a gentle rhythm circling his temples.

I knocked softly on the doorframe and entered. He looked up and sighed, while I smiled. "Want some help, Bran, old boy? You look absolutely worn down." I closed the door for a bit of privacy.

He sighed, not even having the energy to bite back at me. "So much to do yet and precious little time to do it in." I took off my gloves and strode for his desk. He looked up at me, suspicious of my intentions.

"Relax. I'm here to help." I sat on the arm of his large chair and began to work the tension out of his shoulders, stroke by stroke. He sighed gratefully, and leaned his shaggy orange head down in relief.

"Well, that does feel rather good."

"I should hope so!" I said with a laugh, working at his neck a bit. "You're so tense I was afraid I would snap you in half just by touching you."

"Mmm." Slowly, he began to relax and leaned his arms forward onto the desk, stretching as I worked down his back. "That really does feel great, Hawke."

"Good." I smiled like a snake and slid down into the chair behind him. He started, turning around. I batted my eyes at him a bit and pulled him onto my lap. He hesitated, and looked worried at me.

"Hawke, what are you..." I silenced him with my lips. He surprised me a bit by kissing me back a bit more forcefully than I anticipated, grabbing my head in his hands and pulling me to him. He resituated himself so he was straddling me. I wrapped my arms around him and finally pulled away.

I arched my eyebrow at him. Bran grinned sheepishly. "What."

"Someone's hungry." I kissed him again, undoing the buttons on his silken shirt, enjoying the fingers combing through my hair. I placed gentle kisses down his jaw and neck, pushing the shirt off of his shoulders as I did so. He made delightful soft moans and gasps as I worked my way around his shoulders and down his hairy chest. I don't know what it is about men with hairy chests.... so terribly manly. And sexy. I ran my fingers through it, growling.

Bran moaned again, this time my name. Maker... I felt a tightening in my loins that longed for him. I flicked my tongue along his nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp. I grinned. I pushed him off of me, onto the desk, kissing down his chest. I began to untie his pants, but he placed a soft, scholar's hand on mine to stop me. I looked up at his flushed face, adorable in his flustered state. "Are you sure...?"

"Do you want it, Bran?" I asked in a whisper, ghosting kisses across his cheek, lighting softly on his lips.

"Maker, yes..." I gently pressed my cheek to his and smiled.

"Good." It was a simple matter to tear his soft pantaloons down his thighs and  begin my ministrations. He stiffened in pleasure as I dragged my tongue along his thick, hot length. He gripped the edge of the desk behind him, knuckles white and head thrown back. "Arrick..." He stifled a moan into a whisper as I took his head between my lips and began to suck, gently at first and then harder as his breathing became heavy and as he placed a hand on the back of my head, I took him completely in, suddenly, and he cried out. I worked his shaft furiously, my hands gripping at his backside, kneading the soft flesh. It wasn't long before he grabbed my shoulders painfully, and twitched, hot seed flooding my mouth. I held still, taking in the gush and encouraging him still with my tongue. He sighed, finally, finished at last, and I swallowed with a flourish, licking up anything I may have missed.

His amber eyes were heavy-lidded, but he smiled mischievously at me and, after pulling his clothes back on, sat down on my lap and snuggled into me. I held him closely, smelling the soap scent in his hair. "Feel better, Bran?"

"Much better." He leaned up to kiss me, gently. "Thank you, Arrick."

I smiled and leaned my head on his. "Anytime."

Bran looked up and grinned. "Anytime? I see." I laughed. What a mischievous old bastard.

"Anytime you want," I sighed, breathing hot air onto his ear. He shivered pleasurably. "Just send for me, and I'll be here."

His mischievous smile was such a welcome change from that wrinkly face of vexation. It made him considerably more attractive. I raised my eyebrows, but it was clear what was on his mind. I'll indulge him for a bit longer, but then he has to get back to work. SOMEone has to keep this city running, after all. I wound my fingers in his silky hair as he kissed me feverishly, holding tightly to me. The door opened suddenly, and a guard walked in, looking worried and looking for trouble.

I'm sure we both looked very silly, looking up in surprise, arms wound around each other and the seneschal in my lap, my hand quite obviously on his bottom. Quite compromising. Oh, Donnic. Aveline would have my head.

"I... I... uh. Sorry, messeres. I thought I heard shouting. I'll --I'll go."

"Could you try not to tell Aveline?" I yelled to him, but the door shut with a bang. I pictured Donnic's slightly terrified face, and rolled my eyes. Bran .... was that a pout? Whatever it was, it was sexy. I kissed him again, and sighed.

"Heaven now, hell later?" he asked slyly.

"By all means," I said, chuckling darkly. It was a while before Aveline really said anything to me, after that. But I could handle the half-hearted, pointed glares if it meant that I could get Bran to practically skip down the halls of the keep with a smile on his face, cheerful in the face of Qunari accusations. Maker knows that man needed a break from the dreary drudgery.

He's quite a handsome man, really. His wife might need to have an unfortunate accident.... (Varric, I was kidding. Adulterous relations in his office is enough to keep us happy.)

Varric shrugs, and keeps writing. I stare at his chest, and try to keep myself from becoming too excited. He puts his quill down at last and grins at me, my eyes glazed and staring pointedly at his chest. "So, Hawke. Got a thing for hairy chests, do you?"

Maker, YES.

**Author's Note:**

> Also I haven't ever posted anything on ao3 before, so if someone wants to help a pal out and let me know if the line spacing is off or if I am making other n00b format mistakes, that'd be lovely :)


End file.
